


Drabbles

by AgeOfAlejandro



Category: STXI - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-06-05
Updated: 2011-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-31 06:30:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgeOfAlejandro/pseuds/AgeOfAlejandro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> An uncomfortable conversation and getting lost. And then Jim talks to someone important. 
> 
> **Beta:**  
>  br />  
> [Hyde the Body ](http://hyde-the-body.livejournal.com/profile)

**  
****Things that everyone knows about LA:** fifty percent of the population is ninety percent plastic, movie stars live there, and it's weird.  
 **Things everyone _thinks_ they know about LA:** you see famous people everyday, it's all Hollywood Boulevard and Beverly Hills, and it's a strange place.  
 **Things everyone should know about LA** : it's dirty, most of the area is a fucking plastic dump, and it's a beautifully weird city.

The important thing, obviously, is that it's strange.

LA is Stepford made real. The surface, the parts that everyone sees in vids and shows; they're all too good to be true. That tall, beautiful woman you see sliding out of the newest BMW model? She looks like she stepped out a high flying fashion mag (the kind you and I, dear reader, are too plebeian to even be aware of), she tells her friends stories about Easter in Tuscany with her husband, and walks like she's on top of the world.

The thing of it is that she's just playing pretend. She _pretends_ that she's just got good genes (she works out like a fiend and binges and purges to stay that size two), _pretends_ her husband is the best man she's ever met (he's having an affair with her eighteen year old niece and that nice big rock on her finger's starting to feel heart-crushingly heavy), and pretends that she only drinks socially (oh, how we lie to ourselves).

LA is this woman. She's a jet setting, fortune telling, glamorous lady. She's also weary, held tenuously together by a million lies and a thousand reconstructive surgeries, and if you look at her, you can tell what the rest of the continent is going to be experiencing soon.

 

She's beautiful all the same.

 

 

LA's far more than just the original El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de los Ángeles del Río de Porciúncula. It's Long Beach and Whittier and a hundred other little cities that have been subsumed by the amoebic behemoth that is Los Angeles. It's a mixture of mountains and beach and farmland swimming in a heaving cityscape, which is never the same year to year. Cities were once built to last, to survive sieges and famine and war, but not anymore and _especially_ not LA. It's changed more in the last three hundred years than every ancient city on Earth has in the last two thousand years. It went from being mostly farmland with scattered towns to a giant metropolis in the course of hundred years, and now it hops with Vulcans and Bajorans and even the odd Betazoid (why an empath would voluntarily spend time in a place like LA is something to be pondered).

LA is glitzy, energetic youth and filthy, wheezing age occupying the same space. A ten minute walk can take you from shopping malls with Versace and fashionable Risan-style spas to strip malls with Kevin's One Credit Stores and Orion massage parlors where twenty credits can get you a happy ending.

Los Angeles is a fucking _mindset_. It's sly eyes in a blowup doll's face, a frail Don Quixote affectionately patronized by whores; it's understanding that under the pretty, there's a lot of ugly and sad, and that this is still beautiful.

 

It was founded by a strange mixture of people (Mestizos, Mulattoes, Native Americans, and a Chinese man records call "Chino"), and the people who live there now are an odd bunch, too. It attracts the rejects and weirdos, the cowards, those looking for a clean bit of plastic to settle down on, and those with a burning itch to be famous.

Jim is...most of these. He picked the hippy loam of San Fransisco to put down new roots instead of LA's plasticized offering, but he's a weirdo (growing up like he did will make you that way), a reject (the rebel son of a Federation hero is assumed by most everyone to not have earned the right to be at the Academy), a coward (running from new developments with Bones), and he desperately wants to make a name for himself _as_ himself.

 

Aurelan pauses en route from her and Sam's bedroom when she spies Jim in the bathroom, and he can see her eyebrows rise in the mirror.

"Damn," she says, eying him as he adjusts the collar of his charcoal suit jacket. "You clean up nice."

Jim flashes a grin. "Why, thank you. You're not so bad yourself."

She chuckles. "Did you pick that out? Because if you did, I want to know why Sam has no fashion sense."

"No, my ex-girlfriend did, actually. Though the tie was a gift from a, a friend," Jim replies, choosing to push further thoughts about Bones out of his mind but unable not to acknowledge him. Today is about making a good impression on his brother's future in-laws now that they're finally on-planet, not about being an emotional cripple.

"'A friend'?" she asks, quirking an eyebrow at him and tucking curly brown hair behind an ear.

"...It's complicated," Jim says, suspecting she'll try to drag it out of him if he says anything else.

"I see." Aurelan looks skeptical, but lets it drop. "We're leaving as soon as your brother stops obsessively polishing his shoes."

"He doesn't want to fuck this up," Jim tells her with a smile.

"I know," she replies. "It's endearing. Annoyingly endearing. But," Aurelan casts a glance down the hall and her lips arch in a smile as she raises her voice, "that's pretty much Sam all over."

"I heard that!" comes his brother's voice from down the hall. Jim hears Sam coming down the hall and can't help but grin.

Aurelan laughs as Sam growls and pulls her close. "Jerk," he says.

"Mhm," she agrees easily. "You love me anyway. Are you ready?" Aurelan asks, looking between her fiance and Jim. When the brothers nod, she leads the way out the front door and snags the keys from the bookcase by the door as she passes.

 

 

They drive to a place in Long Beach Aurelan's mother particularly likes and meet up with her parents. Bruce and Margret are very nice people, Jim finds. They're gracious and charming, and he thinks Sam could not have found a better family to marry into. He also does his best to make a good impression, and he and Sam weather the inevitable questions about their parents.

"Mom's off planet doing deep space exploration right now," Jim says and Sam nods. "Not expecting to hear from her again for another two years or so."

"Are you planning to put off the wedding until then?" Bruce asks Aurelan and Sam.

They look at each other. "We haven't really set a date, but yeah, I expect so," Sam says.

"When do you ship out?" Aurelan asks Jim.

"If everything goes according to plan, next year some time."

Sam looks at him. "How likely is that?"

"Pretty likely," Jim tells him. "Summer session starts in three days, and then all I have left are a handful senior classes."

Aurelan and Sam look at each other again for a moment. "We'll figure something out," she says to her parents. Bruce and Margret nod, and lunch goes on splendidly after that.

 

They decide to do some post-lunch wandering, and it's hot. Margret makes Bruce carry a couple shopping bags she picks up along the way and Sam is turned into a pack animal by Aurelan. Jim stuffs his jacket into one the bags his brother is lugging along and when Sam glares, Jim gives him a full-wattage smile and scampers off to talk to his soon-to-be sister-in-law.

"I hate you!" Sam calls after him, mildly annoyed.

"We both know you'll make me babysit your future kids whenever I'm here, so I think you're getting off light," Jim replies over his shoulder, and laughs when Sam looks slightly mollified.

Aurelan rolls her eyes and laughs. "So, are you going to tell me about your tie-giving friend?" she asks, eying the piece of cloth in question.

Jim resists the urge to shift uncomfortably. "It's complicated, like I said."

"Uh huh," she agrees. "I recall that conversation. Go on."

He's known Aurelan for about a year now, but he's not sure he's comfortable talking to her about this. She knows _of_ Bones, because how can she not? Jim's completely (terrifyingly) head over heels for the man and he sometimes thinks he talks too much about him. "I," he starts and pauses. "I don't really want to talk about it. It boils down to me being stupid and a coward."

She tilts her head consideringly. "I'd tell you to stop being an idiot and a coward, but it's never that simple. Is this," she asks, "about your doctor friend? You talk about him all the time, so I wonder--"

"This isn't someth--," Jim interrupts, almost sharply, "I don't want to talk about it."

She steps back and sighs. "I'm sorry, Jim. I thought getting you to talk about it might help, but I won't push if it bothers you that much."

He gives her a nod and a false smile. "It's ok. If talking about it could help, I don't think I'd be in this mess." Jim stops and lets her walk ahead, fully aware that she's probably embarrassed even more by this, but he _really_ doesn't want to talk about Bones. He knows full well he's probably destroyed any chance of something serious with Bones and that he's really hurt him. Jim doesn't want to be reminded of what he's in all likelihood lost due to his own fucking _stupidity._

Sam tends to dawdle when not prodded, so he's some way behind. Jim waits for him, and in the mean time, see a guy with a bottle of tamarind soda. Which peaks his interest, because he loves aguas frescas like tamarind and horchata.

"Sam," he says as his brother approaches, "I need a drink. I'll find you when I get one, ok?" With that, he takes off, ignoring Sam's yells behind him.

 

Jim's trek takes him into territory very much unlike the part of Long Beach he had been in not a kilometer ago. It does, however, have a distinctly Latin American feel to it, and he can hear mariachi and the folks around him are speaking Spanish. Eventually, he finds a mom'n'pop taco place that has aguas frescas and he buys the largest size he can with a handful of credits and pocket lint. The cup of tamarindo is brimming and the walls are worryingly soft. Jim takes a big sip through the straw before he sets off, intent on finding Sam and Aurelan again. It hasn't been very long since he left them and he's not worried about catching up.

He strikes off in the direction he remembers coming from. Ordinarily, he makes a point of finding landmarks and remembering street names so he can navigate back, but it occurs to him then that he didn't do a very good job of that this time, distracted as he was by thoughts of Bones and he's a bit confused by the twisty, windy residential streets that snake out of strange places. He's increasingly worried about finding his way back, as the minutes turn into half hours and then hours. It's 1600, and he left Sam and Aurelan around 1300.

He finds the nearest bus stop, feeling foolish and out of sorts and brain-meltingly hot, as he sips the last of his drink and tosses it before studying the schedule and map, trying to figure out how to get where he needs to go. His brother's place is in Woodland Hills and the trip from his current location there will take about an hour and half. Jim hasn't ridden a bus in a long time - he uses the BART to get around the Bay Area and LA's buses are kind of intimidating. He also only has a couple credits on hand, so he hopes he can transfer between lines for free. Jim's picked the route with the fewest stops accordingly.

Sighing, he knows there's not much he can do about it. Instead, he settles for watching for the bus and his surroundings. He's only got about ten minutes left, but still.

It's harshly sunny, that kind of scorch-your-retinas bright that makes Jim long for the Bay Area, and he makes a mental note to bring sunglasses with him everywhere in Southern California from now on. But it's also pleasantly windy, and the breeze is cool this close to the coast. The area has a lot of tagging, and some of what looks like brightly done murals. They're pretty awesome, he decides, for all that the area is otherwise ratty. There's one of Mickey Mouse flipping the viewer off, and some very realistic pictures of people and animals, both Terran, real, and otherwise.

 

The bus comes to a groaning stop and, after establishing that he can indeed transfer for free, he settles in the middle of the bus because there's fewer people there, even though he feels even more out of place than before because everyone can see him. Jim tugs on his tie nervously and then stops, because he remembers the last time he wore this tie and fiddled with it, Bones chastised him ( _You're gonna wreck that silk, Jim, if you keep messin' with it. Stop_ ). The trip feels ridiculously long, so he lets himself get distracted by his surroundings, studying the way the city shifts from dirt poor to wealthy and back again as the bus shuffles on.

Then his last stop is up and he disembarks, not too far from his brother's place.

 

Sam and Aurelan are relieved and ecstatic to see him, and scold him for running off.

"What are you, five?" Sam demands. "Taking off because you ‘don’t want to talk about it’!"

He lets them fume because he deserves it. Once they’ve cooled down a bit, though they’re still glaring at him, they usher him out to the backyard. He's initially bewildered, because there’s nothing back there but a pool. And then he sees Bones, who looks up at him from the chair by the blue water with hurt and worry in his eyes.

Jim swallows and can't convince he feet to _move_ , either away from or toward Bones. The other man solves it for him, pushing off the chair and moving to wrap him in a tight hug. Jim stiffens, then relaxes into the embrace, tucking his face against Bones's neck.

"We were so worried about you, you fucking idiot," Bones says as he pulls away and holds on to Jim's biceps. "Don't you dare do that again!" he snaps. "Especially without your comm!"

Jim holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I won't, I swear. I didn't mean to leave it in my jacket pocket."

"Your brother said it was off and that your last login to anything was before you even came down here," Bones says, eyes narrowed.

"I," he sighs and swallows again, feeling butterflies begin to develop in his belly. "I didn't want to log in." Jim stares at Bones's shirt instead of his face. "In case there were messages I didn't know how to answer."

"From who?"

"You," Jim tells him. He risks a glance up and decides to bulldoze through this, because hey, it can't get any worse. He's doubtlessly fucked this up beyond all redemption. "I bolted because I...had a realization I don't know what to do with."

"Which would be?" Bones asks with a mixture of anger, derision, and worry. And maybe a little bit of hope.

"It probably doesn't matter now," Jim mutters. "But, uh, I'm sort of in love with you. And what the fuck do I do with that?" He closes his eyes as Bones stills. "Yeah, that's what I thought," he says, his voice touched with bitterness and he pulls away, heading for the door.

"Jim," Bones calls. "You could have fucking told me."

"I didn't think you'd take it well and I was terrified of fucking this up. I did anyway," Jim replies, "so it doesn't matter."

"You self-centered brat," Bones shoots at him. "Did it ever occur to you I might feel the same way?"

Jim pauses. "I didn't see anything that indicated that," he replies.

"I didn't see it in you, either," Bones says, "so I kept my mouth shut to keep from scaring you off."

Hesitating, Jim asks, "Is there still a chance we can go anywhere with this? With us?"

"We can try," Bones says after a moment. "We'll have to watch out for communication issues," he adds. "Since apparently neither of us are capable of using our words like adults."

Jim chuckles. “That would take all the excitement out it, Bones. Admit it, the misunderstandings and fights add so much more to a relationship.”

Bones raises an eyebrow but plays along. “Uh huh. Nothin’ like a night on the couch to keep the spark alive.”

With a laugh, Jim pulls him close. “So are we a go?”

“Yes,” Bones replies. “Yes we are.”


End file.
